


Solstice Of The Stars

by Gamergirl2170



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Bull's Chargers, Cullen Rutherford being an Asshole, Cullen is called The Commander, Denial of Feelings, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, I Don't Even Know, It's bad, Lyrium Withdrawal, M/M, Modern Girl in Thedas, Multi, Overprotective Big Brother, Protective Siblings, Terrible writing, Until he starts to change, adopted family, confused feelings, don't read it if you don't like it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2020-02-04 11:39:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18603775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gamergirl2170/pseuds/Gamergirl2170
Summary: ~Previously known as Clarity~Memories are a fickle thing, they can slip through someone's fingers at the simplest things. A bump on the head, falling down from something, nearly anything can cause it to fade. Getting it back is the tricky thing.After being taken in and raised with a family, of course Daryah's going to follow the adoptive brother she's closest to. Even if it's to Haven to find his older brother. Even at the risk of being captured, just so she can be at his side. But is their sibling bond is strong enough to survive anything? Even the return of her memories?





	1. Chapter 1

 

 Her head burns, it _aches_ , like something was trying to split it apart, in half, from the inside out. She was cold, and wet, shivers racking her body, something itchy but warm caresses her skin as she turns, the movement doesn’t help with her head. At. All. The sound of something crackling, the kiss of heat, the brush of the itchy caress all serve to wake her, drawing her up out of a fog, and the agonizing pain, it makes her eyes flutter open. A wooden walls is illuminated before her face, she slowly sits up, confusing questions floating around in her head as a nearby door opens. “Oh, you’re awake dear! The others will be pleased.” A woman in red and white robes with dark curls, and sunkissed skin steps into view, causing her to draw back in alarm and fear. “You were found on the shore, but nobody knows how you came there, or where you are from.” The woman has a tray in her hands, full of food and drink, which she sets on a nearby table before, walking over to a fireplace, and throws a piece of wood into the pit. “What were you doing out in such a storm?” She asks, turning to face the young girl. “And in such terrible clothes? You could have caught your death!” Noticing the girl’s confused look as she turns, a frown coming to the woman’s face as she crosses the room. “Can you understand me?”

 

 “Y-Yes, I un-derstand you.” The girl says slowly, as if she’s unused to speaking.

 

 “What’s your name?” The woman asks softly, sitting on the edge of the bed.

 

 “N-Name?” The girl asks, shaking her head. “No.”

 

 “No?… You don’t remember?” The woman asks, causing the girl to frown, pressing her lips tightly together, before gripping her head with a soft cry of pain. “It’s possible tha you have no memory from the head wound you sustained.” She pauses. “You hurt your head, it made you forget.” She says simply, causing the girl to frown. “I am Sister Rosalie.” She smiles at the girl. “We found you next to the water, do you know how you got there?” She asks.

 

 “W-Wa-ter? No, only a boat.” The girl answers causing the Sister to frown.

 

 “Boat accident?” She murmurs to herself. “Dangerous, sometimes fatal.” She looks at the girl. “Eat.” She points to the tray of food, causing the girl to eye it, before slowly nodding. She takes the bread, biting into it as the Sister paces the room, preparing a hot bath and clothes for the poor girl. _She can’t be more than 10, did her family die? Was she abandoned? Why was she on a boat?_ These questions keep racing through the Sister’s mind, filling her with worry as she helps the girl into the bath after helping her strip from cold, wet, and stiff clothes. _She has no memory of menial tasks? Perhaps she was a noble? No, she doesn’t seem the type at all._ Sister Rosalie thinks a she helps scrub the girl free of mud, before pouring water over her head, the young girl looks up at the Sister.

 

 “Heh!” The girl give a toothy grins at the Sister, bubbles forming in her dirty gray locks as the Sister starts to scrub the girl’s head, Sister Rosalie can’t help but smile back, scrubbing the poor girl’s head, the more she scrubs, the brighter the colors get, almost as bright as snow now. After the bath, Sister Rosalie helps the girl dry off and dress as she stares at the girl, curiosity rings in her eyes, loss echoing behind them. _Poor dear. She may not even know what she’s lost. How much she’s lost. But, she knows that she lost something._ Sister Rosalie thinks as she ties the sash to the girl’s blue cotton gown, before setting the girl on the edge of the bed, and taking the towel to the girl’s shoulder length hair, drying it before tying it back in a blue bow, in a low ponytail. “Thank… you.” The girl says, the words are slow, like she gets lost part way through them. Rosalie stands from the bed, taking the girl’s hand to lead her from the room.

 

 “This is the Chantry, where we come to pray to the Maker for forgiveness for our sins.” Sister Rosalie explains slowly as the girl looks around the candle-lit wood building, it’s small, not much to see. The two of them leave the building, entering the small yet bustling town, where the people are coming and going from stalls and shops in a busy manner, but they spare time to stare as the Sister leads the girl to the town hall. The doors open before the young girl, drawing the attention of the people within, no doubt discussing the young girl the two fisherman discovered after the storm had passed the other day. “Gentleman and Miladies, the young one is awake. Sister Rosalie announces, leading the girl to the front as the people stare at her as she looks around in awe. “I am sad to say she remembers little, not how to bathe, not how to dress, and barely speaks. She remembers a boat, that is all.” This causes whispers amongst them.

 

 “And her family?” A woman asks, hesitant to eye the child.

 

 “No memories of them. Only a boat.” Sister Rosalie answers.

 

 “No water, only a boat, then _whoosh_!” The girl makes a large sweeping motion like something sweeping up, and over. “Only water. Big water.” The girl explain as everyone listens.

 

 “It sounds like she was washed away by waves.” A man says, frowning. “Poor girl.”

 

 “I can attempt to reach out to other Chantrys, to see if anyone comes forward, looking for a child of her description, but unfortunately- she cannot stay in the Chantry. There is no room.” Sister Rosalie says, causing murmurs to sweep through the hall, everyone’s gaze landing on the young girl as she sits on the stage, swinging her legs as she looks around with interest at the painted walls, each one housing paintings of tales well known throughout Thedas.

 

 “She can stay with us.” Aubrey, a woman with smooth ivory skin and blue eyes, says as she stands amongst the crowd. “Levi just left for Templar training, so I can make Johann and Elliott share a room, and give her Johann’s room. She will be cared for, and have Marie to play with, and Benjamin and I will look after her as our own.” She explains, causing agreement to surf through the crowd, causing the girl to tilt her head at the noise, watching in confusion.

 

 “So, it will be. I will often check in on her, myself. Perhaps with time, she will regain her memory.” Sister Rosalie announces, and things come to a close. When the girl leaves, it is with Aubrey, while Sister Rosalie watches from afar, she can’t help but worry for the happily skipping girl trailing after the Fisherman's wife.


	2. Chapter 2

~10 Years Old~

 

The first night with Aubrey and her family is strange, they all go about their day as normal as they can, though the children, Marie and Johann, seem to go out of their way to avoid the young girl as she joins them for dinner that night. Benjamin seems to be smiling more as his wife dishes him a plate, and Elliott, at 11 with short cropped black hair, blue eyes and warm brown skin, helps with plating the girl’s food. “Why don’t you know where you came from?” Marie asks, causing the girl to blush, feeling embarrassed. “Why don’t you know your name? What are we supposed to call you?” Her brown eyes are bright with curiosity as her black locks flop as her head tilts with her questions.

 

“Marie!” Aubrey scolds the six year old, but the girl opposite of Marie tilts her head to look at her mom.

 

“Call… Me?” The girl asks, causing Aubrey to sigh.

 

“We’ve got to come up with a name of some sort.” Benjamin reminds his wife, causing her to sigh as she rests a fist on her hip, a frustrated expression on her face as she purses her lips.

 

“What about Daryah? It means Sea.” Elliott suggests, causing the family to exchange looks, before looking at the young girl as she smiles at them.

 

“She… did come from the ocean, which isn’t that different from a Sea.” Benjamin says, his carmel brown eyes sparkling at his wife’s enthused smile that she’s trying to hide. Elliott hands the girl a fork before tapping his to the plate before him. She mimics the young man as he cuts into his fish, cutting a few bites out as Aubrey studies them.

 

“Alright,” Her gaze lands on the girl, who watches the woman, a fork full of fish hangs halfway out of her mouth as she tilts her head. “Daryah is your name now, dear. And Daryah, you’ll be staying here with us, until your family comes to get you..” She smiles as she sits down, and Daryah smiles at them, a big toothy smile, that causes all of them to smile in return.

  
  


~11 Years Oldr~

 

“Elliott! Johann! Come back here with my dolly!” Marie yells as she dashes across the yard, Daryah giggles as she follows behind, the two of them chasing the two boys.

 

“Run! Don’t let the serpent and the dragon get ahold of you!” Johann shouts, the six year old is screaming and cackling as Daryah speeds up, tackling Elliott as he grunts, and she pins his arms down.

 

“Give Marie her doll!” She demands, causing Johann to panic, throwing the doll towards the two older kids, causing Marie to dive for it as Elliott bucks Daryah off, sending her crashing to the springy Wycome ground as he pounces on her, tickling her sides in retaliation for her pinning him to the ground. She screams, laughing and squirming as she attempts to smack him, trying to get him to stop the tickling torture. He grins as he pins her hands above her, causing her to glare at him, noticing Marie sneaking up behind him, so she pretends to struggle to distract Elliott, before Marie tackles him off of Daryah, causing her to hop up as Elliott yells and struggles against Marie’s weight, and Daryah plops on the boy as well, causing him to yelp as both the girls giggle. Johann yells as he charges them, knocking into the girl as they grab him, pinning to him to the ground beside his brother, causing them all to laugh.

 

“I’m glad they’re getting along,” Aubrey says to Benjamin as he holds her to his chest, the two of them watching from the doorway of their house. “I just worry about how it will affect the children, if her parents come looking for her.”

 

“It’s been a year, do you honestly think they’re still looking?” Benjamin inquires as he watches Elliott arch his back, Johann does the same, causing the girls to squeal as they fall from the boy’s laps, laughter bouncing through the yard.

 

“Would you give up, if it was our children?” Aubrey asks, looking up at her husband as he sighs, and shakes his head.

 

“No, never.” He admits, watching as the girls jump up, dashing away from the boys as they get up, chasing after them. “I just hope that nothing changes with this one on the way.” He says, reaching down to rub his wife’s slightly protruding stomach.

 

“They all will love it,” Aubrey smiles at the running children. “and we have more than enough love to go around. I’m sure Daryah and Marie will love sharing a room, as much as Elliott  and Johann have.” Benjamin sighs, before shaking his head as his wife enter the house to continue dinner.

 

“I was thinking of building an add-on.” He says as he follows her inside.

 

“Nonsense, we have enough room. Not to mention, we don’t have the coin to spare such venture.” Aubrey retorts as Daryah and Marie come running in, yelling about monsters, the boys following close after, growling and roaring after them, laughter chasing from the four of them from another room. “Things will be just fine.” Aubrey states, causing her husband to chuckle at his stubborn wife.

 

“Alright, darling. Whatever you say.” He kisses her on the forehead, before wandering out the door to begin work on the add-on, anyway.

  
  


~Fifteen Years Old~

 

Walking through the town of Wycome, Daryah is in a woolen knee length lavender gown, which compliments her pure white curls and purple eyes, she has a basket tucked into her arm as she hums a tune, she doesn’t remember all of, under her breath. Stopping at a market stall in the town square, she’s greeted with a smile. “Hello Daryah, how’s the babe doing?” The stall keep asks her.

 

“Fine, Serah Pedro. Mama Aubrey’s been rather tired, so I offered to do the shopping for her today.” Daryah answers with a friendly grin, causing the man, Pedro to smile even wider.

 

“Isn’t that sweet? Well, the fruit is fresh- just picked from the orchard today. The fish is a few hours old, so I’ll give you a deal, and I’ll give you a few vegetables free.” Pedro offers, causing Daryah to smile as she nods.

 

“Mama Aubrey said a pound and half of fruit, five salmon, and nine potatoes.” Daryah says, causing him to nod, getting to work filling the order as Daryah looks around the town square, which is full of people as usual, laughing and exchanging stories, and she’s reminded of when Sister Rosalie was walking her through the town towards the town hall, five years ago now. She sighs, getting lost in thought, giving the figure behind her the perfect opportunity to glomp on her.

 

“Daryah!” Elliott shouts, causing her to stumble under his weight, the thirteen year old chuckles, locking his arm around her shoulders. “What’re you doing in town? You hardly come out this far.” He asks, waving his friends on ahead of him, causing them all to call out about choosing her over them, but walking away smiling nonetheless, roughing housing with each other.

 

“Here’s your order, Daryah.” Pedro says, handing her the wrapped fish, which she puts in her basket, before handing her the fruit and potatoes, which she adds to the basket as well, and Elliott takes the heavy basket from her arm.

 

“Mom sent you shopping, eh?” He asks as she hands the allotted amount of coin to Pedro, before looking at Elliott as he walks beside her towards the bakery. He smirks as he wraps his free arm around her shoulders, and she bumps her shoulder against his.

 

“No, I volunteered. She was exhausted from the babe crying all night.” Daryah explains as Elliott nods, dropping his arm from her shoulder to grab her hand, tucking it into the crook of his arm as the enter the shop, and she steps up to the counter.

 

“Understandable.” He replies as she takes a loaf of bread and some rolls, before handing Baker Emilie the payment, and she turns to him, placing the bread in the basket on Elliott’s arm. “What’re you doing after this?” He asks, causing her to raise an eyebrow at him.

 

“Why?” She asks skeptically as they leave the bakery, he grabs her hand again.

 

“I got my payment from the fishing ship today.” He responds, causing her to turn her head to him as he grins. “I wanted to get you something nice for the upcoming festival- last year you weren’t of age, but you are now.”

 

“I-I’ve got my own gowns-”

 

“It’s a courtship festival, Dar. You have to wear a nice gown.” He explains, causing her to gape at him.

 

“Courtship festival? I don’t want to be courted! I’m not going!” She replies, as if aghast at the very thought of being courted. Elliott’s face falls, causing him to sigh as he shakes his head.

 

“You have to face this sooner or later, Daryah. Courtship is natural, you’re very sought after.” Elliott points out, causing her to wrinkle her nose in dislike as they start back to the house.

 

“Who would seek my hand for courtship? I shall whip them into shape.” She retorts, causing Elliott to laugh, remembering their sword practice a few days ago, she had actually managed to knock him down and put the dulled blade to his throat, straddled aside his chest, their lessons with Serah Micheal had definitely been paying off.

 

“Well,” He says, looking amongst the trees, before he grabs her arm, tugging her to a stop by her arm, causing her to look at him in confusion. “what if I said me?” His eyes are honest, emotion laid bare before him as she gapes at him.

 

“B-But, Elliott y-you’re like m-my brother.” She stammers in surprise.

 

“Maker’s Breath, I don’t want to hear that!” He huffs, turning away as he drops the basket at her feet, hands blocking his ears. “You are  _ not _ my sister!” He snaps. “We’re not related! I’ve never seen you as my sister, Daryah!” He grabs her arms in his hands, looking pleadingly into her eyes with annoyance edging them.

 

“Elliott, we’ve been raised together for the last five years- you can’t honestly expect me to-”

 

“Care for me as I do you? You cannot be so innocent, as to believe that the world is sunshine and roses, and nothing bad happens. I care for you, as more than a friend, and not as a sibling!” He growls, causing Daryah to rip her grip away from him.

 

“You are confusing loves, Elliott. We’re practically siblings! You’re confusing familial love for romantic love. I am sorry Elliott, but I will  _ never _ see you as a man. You are my brother.” She retorts sharply, her words cutting into him more than a blade ever could. Elliott watches, dumbfounded as she stoops down, grabbing the basket of food, before stalking off back towards the house, eyes watching her as she goes. Things are tense between them for awhile.

  
  


~Seventeen Years Old~

 

“Ugh, Elliott! Don’t you ever knock!?” Daryah’s voice echoes from her room in the house, the 17 year old comes barrelling out of her room, chasing the 18 year old young man from the room with her shoe above her head. The 13 year old Marie, and the 12 year old Johann are playing a card game that Daryah taught them, called Go Fish- she’s not sure where she learned it, but remembers the rules almost perfectly, the two of them rolling their eyes as the four year old Olivia sits with her shapes in hand, placing them together to make different figurines, the two year old James is lying beside her, on the rug, chewing on a block.

 

“I’m not the one breaking the rules of the house!” Elliott retorts with a smirk on his face, causing Daryah to shriek with indignation, before throwing the shoe, with perfect aim, right at his head, causing him to stumble to his parent’s feet with a grunt.

 

“We weren’t doing anything!” She snaps, causing Elliott laugh as he rolls over.

 

“ _ Suuuuure! _ That’s why he jumped out the window!” Elliott retorts.

 

“He jumped out the window, because  _ you _ threatened to play target practice with him as the target!” Daryah retorts, causing Elliott to start laughing as he holds his stomach, rolling across the floor as Aubrey and Benjamin look at Daryah in disappointment.

 

“Daryah,” Aubrey starts, causing Daryah to look up at her. “you had a boy in your room?”

 

“It’s just Charlie, the Baker’s son.” She answers, causing Benjamin to look at her in disapproval, arms crossed over his chest. “He’s not interested in me in that way.” She replies quickly.

 

“How do you know that?” Benjamin demands, causing her to blush, opening and closing her mouth repeatedly, before closing it firmly.

 

“I just know.” She replies, causing Aubrey and Benjamin to exchange looks, Benjamin shakes his head, and Aubrey sighs.

 

“You know the rules, no people of the opposite gender in the bedrooms, especially with

the door shut.” Aubrey scolds, causing Daryah to look down, blushing as she toes the wooden floor. “You’re grounded for a week.” Her head snaps up as she gapes.

 

“What?!” She cries out as Elliot sits up from his place on the floor, ready to speak when Benjamin beats him to it.

 

“No arguments. Go to your room.” Benjamin says firmly, causing the Daryah to frown, before turning and crossing back to her room, a pout on her lips. The echo of a door slamming behind her sounds through the house.

 

“Just so you know,” Elliott looks up at his parents, finally speaking up in Daryah’s defense. “Charlie isn’t interested in girls.” He climbs to his feet, disappearing towards his room, Aubrey and Benjamin exchanging guilty looks, before the two of them sigh, going towards Daryah’s room together.

  
  


~20 Years Old~

 

“Sister Rosalie,” Daryah gapes, staring at the bag of coin in her hands. “a-are you sure?” She asks, looking up at the aging Chantry Sister, causing her to chuckle, nodding with a smile hidden behind her hand.

 

“Yes, you have a way with children. They all love you, and if I could, I would pay you more often for watching them during the Chant.” She explains, causing Daryah to press her lips together in a tight line as she blushes. “Please take it, Daryah. I’ve been watching over you for a long time, and as much as you love it here,” She strokes the young woman’s cheek. “you long for the sea,  _ and  _ for adventure. I hope this will start you towards a grand adventure, my dear.” Daryah looks down at the bag, contemplating, before looking up at the Chantry sister with a wide grin.

 

“Thank you… Sister Rosalie.” She says hesitantly, before Sister Rosalie nods to her in return, a smile gracing her lips as Daryah turns, dashing out the door. “Hey, Elliott, Marie, Johann! Guess what I got?” She shouts, dashing towards Elliott’s house with a grin on her face.

 

“That child has no idea what she’s in for, does she?” Sister Rosalie asks, causing an old woman to step forward from the shadows, cackling as her old weathered lips pull up into a smile.

 

“No, child. She does not.” The woman says, her smile falling and her laughter disappears. “No, she doesn’t.” Her tone is sad now, causing Sister Rosalie to look over at her, worry on her face.

  
  


~24 Years Old~

 

Sitting in Elliott’s house at the table, across from the shaggy haired 25 year old she’s endured so much from, she watches as he polishes and sharpens his battleaxe, her chin on her fist with her lips pressed firmly together. “Why are you going after this Levi person?” She finally asks, causing him to sigh as he looks up.

 

“Because he’s my brother, and even though you’re my sister by choice, he’s blood. He deserves to know about mom’s death.” He answers, causing her to huff as she rolls her eyes.

 

“And I have to stay here, why?” She asks, causing him to narrow his eyes at her in disappointment.

 

“Because, you’re the next oldest.” He retorts, causing her to huff again, leaning back in her chair to cross her arms over her chest.

 

“Marie is twenty, Johann is Nineteen, dad can watch himself, and Marie can watch James and Olivia.” She responds, causing Elliott to set down his battleaxe on the table, crossing to her side, before stooping down to kiss her forehead.

 

“Because, I need you here to contact me, just in case anything goes wrong, Daryah. Marie is still young, and while I trust our siblings explicitly, Maker Knows that even now they’re a handful.” He explains as he kneels before her, causing her to sigh as she pouts.

 

“I’ve never been past the south end of Wycome, Elliott- what if I were to go with you, and get my memories back? Or find my parents?” He frowns at her questions, causing him to look up at her.

 

“You still think about them, don’t you?” He inquires, causing her to sigh as she frowns.

 

“No. Yes… I don’t know.” She answers, causing him to nod understandingly. “Aubrey and Benjamin are my parents, Elliott. There will never be  _ anything _ that changes that, but… I still don’t know who I am. Who I  _ was _ . How I came here. What happened to me. I… just want to know, if I was always loved, o-or if…” He sighs, wrapping his arms around her, causing her to cling to him, fists clamped on his tunic as she starts to tear up, struggling to keep her tears at bay.

 

“Does it matter that much, Dar?” He asks softly, petting her long white locks. “You are loved now, does it matter that you don’t know who your parents are? Finding your parents doesn’t equate to discovering who you are  _ now _ , that comes from finding yourself.” He explains softly as he holds the young woman, petting and stroking her hair as she cries softly into his chest- a first. She’s been so remarkably strong, he’s never seen or heard her cry, so his surprise is strong, though he keeps it hidden as he comforts her.

 

“Alright,” She sniffles, pressing off him as she wipes her face free of tears. “you are correct.” She answers softly, looking at Elliott as he watches her, brushing her tears away with the soft stroke of a thumb. “I will watch over them, but the minute I hear about something bad happening outside of Wycome, I’m coming after you.” She warns, causing him to sigh, shaking his head.

 

“If that’s the case, you might as well come along.” He relents, causing her to pull away from his touch in surprise, eyes wide. “But it won’t be easy, we’ll be campin every night, rain or shine, and hunting for food, and sleeping on hard grounds- days without bathing.” He warns. “And, you’re going to be training with your longswords every day for at  _ least _ an hour.” He orders.

 

“A-Are you serious?” She eyes him skeptically, as if expecting him to start laughing and saying that he’s joking. “Oh Maker, you are! Thank you, Elliott!” She throws her arms around his neck in a tight hug. “Thankyouthankyouthankyou!” She cries, before jumping to her feet. “I have to go pack, a-and change, a-and- You won’t regret this, Elliott. Things are gonna be so much safer with the two of us.” She dashes out of the room as Elliott leans back on his heels and sighs, shaking his head.

 

“Face it.” He tells himself as he runs a hand through his hair. “She’s better off with me, than to leave her here, where she’ll be forcibly pressed to find a husband.” He mutters to himself, before groaning as he drops his head. “My sister, the natural beauty of Wycome.” He murmurs to himself.

  
  


~26 Years Old~

 

Standing in the town of Haven amidst the crowd in the Singing Maiden Tavern, Daryah’s traveling cloak drawn over her face as Elliott tugs her along to an empty table, his cloak drawn over his face as the two of them find an empty inconspicuous table, hiding their faces as a redhead scurries over, Elliott eyeing her skeptically as she looks between the two of them. “Cold out today, isn’t it?” She asks courteously, a kind smile upon her lips as Elliott murmurs a confirmation. “Anyway, I’m Flissa. What can I get you two?” Her perky tone annoys Daryah, grating on her nerves from two years of isolated travel with nobody but Elliott, and the occasional caravan worker, that they escort when they need money. “Something warm for the bones perhaps? We have this wonderful whiskey that will soothe just about any ache that the cold has settled in your bones and joints. Or, we have a spiced wine, light on alcohol, but warms you up and makes the tongue numb.” Realizing that she won’t shut up, and Elliott isn’t going to stop her prattling- his eyes on the woman’s chest, Daryah drops a view copper on the table, distracting the woman’s continued speech.

 

“Two ales.” Daryah answers, causing the woman to blink in surprise, before nodding as she takes the copper, and disappears behind the bar, and Daryah turns to Elliott, a scowl on her face. “Depraved much?”

 

“Can’t help it.” He mutters, causing Daryah to narrow her eyes angrily.

 

“ _ Try _ .” She bites at him, before falling quiet as a group of chattering templars at a nearby table start to talk.

 

“Knight Commander Cullen was wise and strong, surely sending people to guard the temple cannot be wrong.” One says.

 

“Yes, he  _ was _ wise. He’s no longer the Knight Commander, as he has disclaimed any and all claims towards or with the templars and their order.” Another replies curtly.

 

“That one templar, Levi, still follows his commands. He went up to the temple just moments ago.” The three templar states, causing Elliott and Daryah to exchange looks, before Elliott stands.

 

“Wait here,” He orders her, but she stands anyway. “Daryah, you cannot come with me this time. It’s much too dangerous with tensions so high,” He whispers. “you are a grown woman, templars aren’t the cleanest men, despite what others say. If you’re around others, in a public area, you’ll be safer.”

 

“By the Maker,” Daryah groans, placing her hand to her head. “you are acting as though I’m unable to take care of myself.”

 

“Daryah,  _ no _ .” Elliott scolds, causing her to narrow her eyes at him once more, before dropping to the chair again.

 

“Fine, but if you aren’t safe, I’m going to kick your ass.” She retorts, causing him to smirk, before pressing a hand to her shoulder, and dipping out the front door of the tavern. Daryah lets out a sigh as she sits back, running her fingers along the hilt of one of her swords. “I’m an idiot for letting him go alone.” She murmurs to herself, taking one of the flagons that Flissa puts before her, taking a sip of the dirt-like ale, before sighing as she sets it down, closing her eyes as she continues to listen to the humming drone of the Tavern. It’s a few hours later, nursing the same ale, that she hears it. A loud blast, before a chorus of shouts sound, cries like agony.

 

“There’s been an explosion at the Conclave!” Someone shouts.

 

“The Divine is dead!” Another cries.

 

“As are all who were in attendance!” Her blood chills at that, jumping to her feet fast enough that the chair skids back, toppling over as she dashes out the door.

 

“Elliott!?” Her cries are muffled amongst others as she runs through the town. “Elliott!?” Her tone is worried, teetering on the edge of sobs, legs aching from how fast she’s running. “ **_Elliott_ ** !?” She screams, hood falling back, granting her a clear look at the sky, causing her to stop dead in her tracks.  _ The sky has a hole in it. _ She thinks to herself, staring at the large green and swirling hole in the sky, heartbeat speeding up as she chokes on a sob, hand coming up to cover her mouth as her knees give out.  _ What happened to Elliott? _

__


	3. Chapter 3

 

Soon after the explosion, she finds herself wandering lost, through the village, her mind blank, and skin numb against the iciness of the wind as she continues to search helplessly for Elliott. It’s only when the sun is going down, something changes. A murmur breaks through the village as soldiers come marching in, dragging a limp cloak covered figure between them, an angry glowing green mist sparks and sputters in their hand, causing the figure to mumble and groan in pain, the wind blows the figure’s hood back, revealing  _ Elliott _ . She has to steal herself against running to him, the soldiers would likely kill, or lock her away as well. The murmuring accusations of Elliott being the murderer of the divine soon reach her ears, twisting her stomach in a sickening way, since she’s unable to defend him without suspicion being directed towards her. Luckily, she manages to get a room in the Tavern for a couple of copper a night, staying close to the Chantry, where they’re keeping her brother, so she can hear news on him if there is any, while also hearing about the fighting that has started in the valley. She is honestly torn between sticking around to see if she can rescue Elliott, or seeing if she can help against the demons in the valley, but soon the answer is chosen for her.

 

The third day since Elliott was captured, Daryah is woke up by the usual yelling of fighting from downstairs, the tensions are high and stress is reaching a boiling point as she walks down the stairs, silence falling from the fighting as the two spatting men gaze upon her. “Now now boys, you remember what happened to the  _ last _ two, don’t you?” She inquires innocently enough, even though she was the one to knock the heads of the last two men, that were fighting, together and throw them out. Flissa, the barkeep, gave her a discount on her room for keeping the peace amongst the patrons of the bar. The men grumble and turn away, stalking towards opposite ends of the tavern to separate themselves after her warnings. Shouting draws her attention, drawing her outside to see a crowd yelling and throwing things at someone, causing her to force her way through, relief striking her heart as she dashes into the onslaught of curses and garbage. “ _ Elliott! _ ” She cries as he turns to her, his hands bound as she throws her arms around him, hugging him tightly as the sound of metal on metal sounds behind her, causing her to turn to see a short haired Seeker woman standing there with the blade pointed at her.

 

“Back away from the prisoner, or you yourself shall be imprisoned.” The woman commands, causing her swallow thickly as she keeps her grip around her brother’s neck. “Now.”

 

“Please… H-He’s my brother.” Her eyes widen at this, looking between them as Elliott struggles to hold Daryah behind his figure, protecting her from the surly woman.

 

“Move, prisoner.” She demands, pointing her sword towards the bridge, causing Daryah to glance at it, before looking up at Elliott, who caresses her head, pressing a kiss to her forehead before starting towards the bridge, her grip on his arm is quick, causing him to look at her in surprise.

 

“Dar, you can’t come.” He states, causing Daryah to glare up at him with narrowed eyes, angry sparking beneath them.

 

“You can’t stop me- you haven’t the slightest of what’s been going on since you left for the temple.” He groans, before grabbing her hand to tug her along as the woman watches their interactions, a slight tug at the corner of her lips, before it fades back into her scowl. As soon as the doors behind them on the bridge close, she cuts the binds from Elliott’s hands, causing her to let out a breath of relief as he pulls Daryah into his embrace, the weight his crushing. “Air, Elliott- need air!” He lets go with a chuckle as she stumbles back, taking an exaggeratingly deep breath, her hand on her chest.

 

“Let’s go,” He says, pulling Daryah along to chase after the Seeker. The Breach above their heads sputters and spits angrily, Elliott’s hand reacting similarly as they start towards the second bridge, soldier’s running and screaming, Elliott is quick to pull Daryah off their path, so they don’t barrel over them. At one point, Elliott cries out, dropping to the ground as he cradles his hand to his chest, while she kneels next to him in the snow, hand rubbing his back as the woman, Cassandra, as Daryah learns her name is, grabbing his arm to hoist him to his feet.

 

“The pulses are coming faster now.” Cassandra says, causing Daryah to raise an eyebrow at her as she walks ahead, and she turns back to Elliott as she stands.

 

“Are you alright?”She asks, causing him to nod, grunting in response.

 

“Yeah.” He nods as he grabs her hand, pulling her along the way as Cassandra looks back at them with a raised eyebrow.

 

“Can I help you?” She sighs, causing her to frown, pressing her lips together in a firm line.

 

“You are truly siblings?” She inquires, causing Daryah to nod. “But, you look nothing alike.”

 

“His family took me in when I was young.” She answers. “Family isn’t always blood, sometimes it’s bond.” She says nothing as she turns back to the path ahead, the three of them turning toward another bridge.

 

“Did you write home about this?” Elliott inquires as they step on the stone.

 

“No,” She shakes her head. “I-I wanted to make sure you alright first.” He nods.

 

“Good, we-”

 

“Look out!” Cassandra calls as a green arch of lightning slams into the stones before them, the bridge giving way under their feet, a sharp cry of fear slipping from Daryah’s lips as she falls. Something explodes behind her eyes as she snaps them shut, the sounds of rain and thunder echo in her ears, and when she opens her eyes, a cresting wave falls over her, sending her sinking into the water once again. Elliott yanking her around in mid-air, to cradle her against his chest is what draws her back to reality. One of his hands comes up to hold the back of her head, the other is holding her close for protection as they land, the impact jostles her as Elliott grunts under Daryah’s weight. She quickly rolls off of him so he can get his breath, her eyes widen at the figure of Cassandra fighting off a shade a few feet away, another starts to bubble and claw it’s way out of the cracked ice, causing her to jump to her feet, unsheathing both of her swords to prepare to fight.

 

“Daryah no!” Elliott shouts, jumping to his feet as she charges the demon, hacking and slashing with both of her long swords, Elliott comes charging from behind her with a greatsword in his hand, slashing the shade in half as she whirls around on him, the hood of her cloak falling around her shoulders as she narrows her eyes at him.

 

Andraste’s flaming bosom! Are you kidding me Elliott?!”

 

“What?”

 

“I had it!” She snarls, causing Elliott to smirk at her.

 

“I was just-”

 

“Drop your weapons!” They both look over at the Seeker as she points her sword at them, causing Daryah to raise an eyebrow at her as she sheathes her long swords on her back, and her eyes narrow menacingly.

 

“I’m not your prisoner. You can’t command me.”

 

“Daryah,” Elliott’s tone is scolding as he slowly lowers to the ground, going to set the greatsword on the ground.

 

“No, I’m not at her mercy. I’m not going about defenceless! It’s dumb.” She snaps as she crosses her arms over her chest, and Cassandra sighs.

 

“Wait,” Elliott pauses his movement as she looks at him. “I cannot protect you everywhere, and I cannot expect you to be defenceless either.” She says as he stands, greatsword in his hand, before putting it in his sheath on his back, obviously where his last one was that they took from him. Cassandra takes a few steps up the hill, pausing to turn to the siblings, an attempt at friendly smile on her face. “I should remember that you came along willingly.” She continues forward as Elliott grabs Daryah’s wrist to pull her along as she huffs in annoyance.

 

“I had that.” He says, causing her to snort.

 

“Now you know how it feels.” She replies sharply, causing him to shoot her a smirk over his shoulder, laughter sparkling in his eyes.

 

“Not my fault that you used to depend on me for every little thing back in Wycome.”

 

“W-When I was 10! Not every waking moment of every single day!” Her cheeks start burning as he chuckles, enjoying the effect of his words. “Sh-Shut up! Don’t talk to me! I hate you.” She huffs as he gasps, hand flying to his chest in feigned pain.

 

“Oh! The pain! You’ve wounded me! My Dar-Dar hates me! Whatever shall I do?!” He fake sobs, stumbling back as Cassandra makes a disgusted noise ahead of them, and she rolls her eyes, sticking her tongue out at him. “Oh, very mature, Daryah.” He replies as he stands back up from his episode of false wounds.

 

“Ain’t it just?” She wrinkles her nose at him as she smirks, hopping a little before she jogs to catch up with where the Seeker left them behind. It’s only a while longer of following the surly woman, stopping to fight on occasion, before they’re rounding the side of a cliff-face, the sound of shouts and the unmistakable sound of metal clashing in a fight greet her ears as Cassandra looks back at them.

 

“We’re getting closer, you can hear the fighting.” She retorts, causing Elliott and Daryah to exchange looks. “We must help them.” She states as they run across the sight of soldiers fighting demons that came out of the ball of crystallized fade hanging in the middle of the area. A rift, Daryah hadn’t seen one up close, but she  _ had _ eavesdropped into the soldiers’ conversations that came around the town of Haven, they had apparently started to crop up all over Thedas. Without another thought on the matter, she jumps into battle, noticing a few demons targeting an elven mage, backing him into a corner, so she is quick to give him aid. Cutting down a few demons in large swings of her two blades, the elf looks up at her with relative surprise as she shoots him a smirk, pushing off a wall with one of her feet, flipping around to land behind two more of the shades, stabbing them clean through the middle, watching them fall into a pile of ash as she huffs a white lock of hair from her violet eyes. The elf, seeing the fighting is over, stalks over to Elliott, grabbing his hand to drag him towards the rift as she wipes her blades free of gunk from the demons, sheathing them.

 

“Quickly, before more come through!” The elf shouts, thrusting her brother’s hand towards the rift, where it connects with the fade, crackling and snapping wildly, before the rift snaps shut, and her brother stumbles back.

 

“What did you do?” Elliott inquires, looking at the mark in his hand.

 

“ _ I _ did nothing, the credit is yours.” The elf states, causing Elliott to look down at his hand once again, surprise on his face now.

 

“I closed that thing?” He asks. “How?”

 

“Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky, also placed that mark on your hand.” The elf replies, straightening to tuck his hands behind his back. “I theorized that the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach’s wake. And,” The elf’s voice turns smug. “it seems I was correct.”

 

“Meaning,” Cassandra says, stepping forward with hope in her eyes. “It could also close the Breach itself.”

 

“Possibly.” The elf answers. “It seems you hold the key to our salvation.” Causing Elliott’s smile to grow happily.

 

“Good to know,” The dwarf on the other side of the small battlefield states loudly, fiddling with his glove as he looks up. “and here I thought we’d be ass deep in demons forever.” He steps over to Elliott as he turns to the dwarf. “Varric Tethras, rogue, storyteller, and occasionally, unwelcome tag-along.” He shoots a wink at Cassandra as she lets of a disgusted noise, looking away from him.

 

“That’s… a nice crossbow you have there.” Elliott’s grin widens, Daryah can hear it in his voice.

 

“Ah, isn’t she? Bianca and I have been through a lot together.” Varric reaches behind him to pat the wooden handle.

 

“You named your crossbow Bianca?” Elliott asks in surprise, causing Varric to chuckle.

 

“Yes, and she’ll be pleasant company in the valley.” Varric replies.

 

“Absolutely not.” Cassandra steps forward, towards the dwarf. “Your help is appreciated Varric, but-”

 

“Have you been in the Valley lately, Seeker?” Varric cuts into her protest. “Your soldiers aren’t in control anymore, you need me.” Cassandra steps back into the place beside Elliott, letting out a grunt of disgust. Something tells Daryah that’s gonna be a normal thing with her.

 

“ _ My _ name is Solas,” The elf says, stepping toward Elliott. “if there to be introductions. I’m pleased to see you yet live.”

 

“What’s that mean?” Elliott asks.

 

“What he means is ‘I kept that mark from killing you, while you slept.’” Varric replies in Solas’s place, causing Elliott to look down, Daryah can tell he’s embarrassed by the fact that someone else was taking care of him for once.

 

“Oh…” He murmurs quietly, causing her to sigh as she steps in.

 

“What my brother means,” Everyone turns to look at her as she pokes Elliott on a rudy cheek. “is ‘thank you’ but, he’s not used to people taking care of him, so he isn’t sure what to say when it happens.” She perches her elbow on Elliott’s shoulder. “I’m Daryah.” She introduces herself, causing the two men to exchange looks, before Varric grins up at her.

 

“It is pleasant to meet you, Daryah.” Solas replies, causing her to shrug.

 

“That has yet to be seen.” She replies cryptically, walking away to hop over a chunk of wood blocking the lower path, the others following as the conversation continues, before slowly tapering off, and everyone’s main focus becomes getting to the forward camp.  _ Things are getting interesting. _

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	4. Chapter 4

 

The trip to the forward camp only served to irritate Daryah further, the accusations of the dumbass Chancellor towards Elliott had, more than once, made her want to jump on him and beat the tar out of him. Luckily, Varric and Solas were faster than she was, the dwarf is close to her from behind at all time, ready to hold her back, Solas ready to step into Daryah’s path if she were to escape the dwarf’s hold, ready to prevent her from doing something dumb, which may endanger them all. Afterwards, Elliott had decided that they’d charge with the soldiers, which lead to them running into another rift, the battle was quick and clean, Elliott and Daryah are always sure to cover each other’s backs, habit from years of sparring and fighting together. There is the approach of a blonde man in bulky armor, sword at his hip, scar on his lip, and a scowl shot towards Elliott, before he looks to Cassandra, the two of the speak quickly.

 

He only addresses Elliott once, ignoring the rest of the group completely, before he helps one of his men back towards the forward camp, and they all continue toward the Temple of Sacred Ashes. The fight at the Breach was quick, a bit dangerous to the point where Elliott had even had Daryah staying close to the redheaded spy, Leliana. It ended with Elliott sealing the Breach, but passing out. Luckily, his efforts were enough to convince Cassandra and the others that he wasn’t a danger, he wasn’t the one behind the Breach- a dumb idea anyway. A few men carry him back to the town as Daryah trails behind them, chewing on her bottom lip, all of them entering the village as people whisper and talk, murmuring in surprise and relief. When they take him into a cabin, instead of the Chantry, an alchemist running along after them, Daryah finds herself pausing outside the cabin, loitering in the doorway as the alchemist starts to bark orders at people. “Come along, Snowflake.” Varric says, tugging her away from the door.

 

“But-” She looks back over her shoulder at the door, a shiver racking through her as a breeze sweeps through her cloak.

 

“Now now, it’ll be all well and good.” The dwarf tugs her towards the tavern, a smile on his face. “Let’s go get something warm to drink, and put some meat on your bones.” He insists, the tavern door opening, as he leads her inside. There is a quiet chatter that turns to silence as people notice Daryah’s presence, Varric’s hand on her wrist falls to take her hand as he leads towards one of the tables in a secluded corner, under the stairs. “You wait here, Snowflake. I’ll get our drinks and food.” Varric pats her shoulder, disappearing into the kitchens of the tavern while she gnaws at her bottom lip, eyes traveling over the scowling patrons of the Tavern, before falling on the door.

 

“What,” A large man stands up, eyes narrowed towards her, anger radiating from his deep brown eyes. “are  _ you _ doing here?” He demands, causing her to shrink down in her seat as he slam his fist down on the table beside him. “You are the sister of that monster! He killed Most Holy! For all we know,  **_she_ ** could be an accomplice.  _ She _ could be plotting to destroy our world!” He snatches up something from his table, flinging it at her, causing her to jump up, cutting the item in half with her swords, glaring at the man as the item falls to the floor. A simple metal flagon is cut in two, clattering to the floor as he growls, stalking towards her as she sheathes her swords. “You may be lucky this time, but we all know what you are,  _ bitch _ .” She presses a hand to his shoulder as she goes to walk past him, but he snatches up her wrist, spinning her around, before slamming her into a nearby wall, pressing her face to the wall, an arm against the back of her neck, and his weight is against her arm that he’s twisting behind her back. “Even if you aren’t a traitorous bitch, then you’re obviously a monster of some sort. A demon. White your white hair and purple eyes. You’re a  _ demon _ .”

 

“Let. Me. Go.” She snarls, elbowing him in the solar plexus, before stomping on his instep, grinding her heel on him as he yelps, stumbling back as she thrusts her palm up into his nose, before kneeing him in the groin, a satisfied smirk comes to her face as he drops with a groan of pain. “I’m not a  _ bitch _ , you should learn to control your mouth.” She snarls as she flicks her white locks over her shoulder, stepping over him as Varric comes out of the kitchen with a tray of hot food and drinks in his hands, gaping at her as his eyes flick from the figure on the floor, back up to her as she shrugs. “Let’s find somewhere else to eat. I’m  _ obviously _ no longer welcome here.” She states as she glares at the others around the tavern, none of them had spoken up or attempted to help in anyway. Varric balances the tray with one hand, wrapping the other hand around her wrist, tugging her carefully towards the door. “Oh,” She turns away from the door, glaring at the man as he slowly stands up, recovering, her white locks fluttering from her speed. “and I may just be a demon, you will never know.” She turns back around as Varric tugs her gently by the rest once more.

 

“Come on, Snowflake.” His voice is gentle, bidding as she follows him, holding her head high as she bites her lip, and following as he leads her towards a fire nearby, allowing her to sit in a bench as he hands her a bowl of stew with a spoon in it. It’s pure muscle memory, her eyes locked on the flames as she eats, completely lost in the memories that the consume her.

 

_ “Run! Get her!” A bunch of boys shout, all of them chasing after her as she dashes through the alleyways and back streets of town, ducking around corners, and occasionally jumping over low sitting walls of gardens. Vegetables smashed under feet, rocks dodged, they do not relent in their chase. “Demon bitch!” A rock hits the back of her head, causing her to cry out as she stumbles over her feet, falling and rolling across the ground. As soon as she stops rolling across the dirty ground, the group of boys circle her, flinging mud and kicking her. _

 

_ “Demon bitch!” One spits on her as she shields her face with her arms, the various impacts jostling her this way and that way, each kick brings a cry of pain from her lips. _

 

_ “You’re the reason the fishing has been bad this year!” Another accuses, landing another blow repeatedly. _

 

_ “You brought disease that killed my sister!” _

 

_ “You’ve been sent to destroy us all!” _

 

_ “Demon bitch! Demon bitch!” It’s become a chant, each one accompanied by a kick, and obnoxious laughter, soon the pain is too much that she passes out. _

 

“Snowflake?” She jerks from Varric’s hand in front of her, causing the dwarf to snatch it away, as if he’s just been burned, and she swallows thickly as she sets the empty bowl beside her feet. “You alright? I know that look you just had. Did the incident in the tavern bring up bad memories?” He asks carefully, causing her to swallow thickly as she takes the warm drink he offered, the heat from the cup warming her freezing hands.

 

“I’m fine.” It’s a repeated lie, one that stings her lips as she says it, burning her tongue with the taste of burnt toast and old coffee. It’s one told so often, that she wonders if anyone can tell it’s a lie anymore. “I’ve been worse.” It’s more of a half truth, but better than a lie, and Varric raises an eyebrow at her.

 

“Lost in memories? I suppose that anyone would want to think of happier times, after what happened.” Biting her lower lip, taking a deep drink from the warm mug, the taste of chocolate, and sweetened peppermint, the taste is amazing and rich, spreading across her tongue and warmth seeping from her throat, down to her toes and through her fingers, and over and over again, with every sip bringing the feeling back. It brings back the memories of Satinalia at the house, very young, with familiar happy smiles, the fresh snow falling as presents were passed around. “Snowflake?” Her head jerks up at his exclamation, warm tears trickling down her cheeks, causing her to reach up, touching her cheek in surprise.

 

“O-Oh, s-sorry.” She stammers out as she sniffles, rubbing her face against her sleeve, wiping the tear tracks away as she ducks her head to hide her face. “Sorry,” She clears her throat as she stands, setting her empty mug on the stool she was on. “I need to be alone. Pardon me.” She turn on her feet, disappearing down the stairs nearby, and out of the gates. Pressing a hand to her forehead, tears fall as she stumbles over her feet, landing against the stable with a soft grunt, slipping to the cold ground as she covers her face. She had hardly even noticed that it had become night as her forehead comes to rest on her knees, tears finally drying up as exhaustion finally weighs on her shoulders, falling fast asleep as she rests against the wood wall of the stable.


	5. Chapter 5

 

_ “Penelope!” It’s a familiar name, echoing as she turns around lost, the surrounding area is foggy, white smoke clouding up the dark room, the walls and ceiling dripping with indeterminable goo and liquid. “Penelope, come back!” The shouting voice leaves an aching feeling in her chest, familiarity hitting her like a punch to the stomach as she slowly start moving towards it, almost hesitant to move toward it. _

 

_ “No, Daryah! Over here!” Aubrey's voice is all too familiar, pleading, begging for Daryah’s attention. “Daryah, come over here!” Turning towards her voice, her feet start to carry Daryah towards her, steps more sure. _

 

_ “No! Penelope, come here! Come back to me!” The familiar shout is a woman’s, familiar, louder, more comforting the more she hears it. She find herself standing between the calls of two women, two different names, turning back and forth between them, lost and confused. _

 

_ “ _ **_Daryah, wake up!_ ** ” Jerking awake makes her gasp, eyes snapping open as someone grabs her arms, shaking her as she looks around in confusion. “Maker’s breath, Daryah!” Cassandra cries, grabbing her cloak to drape it around Daryah’s shoulders, eyes wide with fear and panic. “What were you thinking?! Sleeping outside!”

 

“I-I d-d-d-didn’t me-mean t-to f-fall asleep.” Daryah stammers, shivers racking her body as her teeth chatter, causing Cassandra to stoop down to lift her into her arms, carrying her back towards Haven.

 

“You have a room at the tavern, do you not?” She inquires.

 

“N-Not w-w-welcome th-there.” She stammers, causing her to huff and sigh, before entering the cabin that houses Daryah’s brother, depositing her on another bed inside the sweltering cabin as she stares up at her, eyes wide like a doe’s. “Y-You a-a-are v-very st-strong.” Cassandra lets out a scoff, smirking at her as she presses her back in the bed, jerking the blankets over her.

 

“Sleep. We will discuss housing and work for you in the morning, and you will be joining with the Commander in the afternoon, for battle training.” Cassandra explains, causing her to nod as she swallows thickly, chills racking down her spine as she curls up in the blanket and cloak. Exhaustion weighs down on her as she falls fast asleep, dreams plaguing her, making her restless that night as she sleeps. The next morning, she finds herself greeted by a servant woman, who directs her towards the Chantry, after an argument about wearing the dress she brought for Daryah, or not, where Cassandra greets her at the front doors. “Ah, late riser,” Her tone is disappointed, but she’s able to hear the distinction behind it. “well that’ll be easy to change.” She gestures towards the inside of the building, where heat practically radiates from within, and Daryah is quick to scurry into the Church, resisting the urge to scream, and hiss, and fall dramatically to the floor. She’s never been much for religion, so her family had gotten used to her dramatics, but something tells her that it wouldn’t be tolerated here. Going through the building beside Cassandra, she leads Daryah into an office where the blonde man from before, in bulky armor, is glaring at her, while rubbing his forehead, and Lelianna is standing beside a dark skinned woman dressed in golden frills and curly locks, who has a board clutched in her arm with a candle at the top, and a quill pinched between her fingers.

 

“Now that we’re all here, we can start.” Lelianna speaks up. “I believe introductions are in order.”

 

“My name is Daryah, your… prisoner is named Elliott. He’s my brother.” She introduces herself.

 

“I am Lady Josephine Montilyet, ambassador and chief diplomat for Haven.” The one in golden frills says, bowing her head in a friendly manner.

 

“Commander Cullen Rutherford, can we get this over with already?” The blonde man huffs, causing Daryah to narrow her eyes at him as he pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes shut as his teeth are clenched, causing his jaw to be set. “I have paperwork to file, and troops to train.”

 

“Are you alright, Commander?” Lelianna’s tone suggests that she’s inquiring if he needs to leave, and he sighs.

 

“No, but this is necessary.” He huffs, looking at Daryah finally, before frowning. “Is this a joke?” She tilts her head at him in confusion. “You are not siblings, that’s not possible.”

 

“I can assure you that Elliott is my brother.” Cullen scoffs, resting a hand on the pommel of his sword. “If you must have my entire backstory, I washed up on the shore of a small fishing village in Wycome, with no memories, at a very young age, and Elliott’s parents took me in. They raised me as their own, and Elliott and his siblings treated me as their sister.” She raises her chin in a defiant manner, giving a smirk. “I  _ am _ his sister.” Cullen frowns, but does not protest as she turns to the others in the room.

 

“We’ve to find a job for Daryah to help, and pay for room and board.” Cassandra points out, as if nothing has happened between the Commander and Daryah.

 

“Do you have an experiences?” Josephine inquires, causing Daryah to quirk her lips to the side, crossing her arms as she toes the bricks in the floor in thought.

 

“I used to help entertain and take care of the children during the Chant in my village. I wasn’t a very… religious sort, so it helped.” She looks up at Josephine. “I also helped with the cleaning after the festivals for Harvestmere and Bloomingtide.”

 

“What about working with horses?” Cullen inquires tiredly, causing Daryah to frown.

 

“We were a  _ fishing  _ village.” She retort sharply, causing him to at least have the decency to look sheepish at that, as if he forgot, while rubbing his neck as red stains his cheeks. “I’ve mostly helped with the chores at home, then the Tavern when I was older.”

 

“We have a tavern here.” Lelianna says.

 

“I’m not welcome there, any longer.”

 

“No doubt, for doing something reckless and irresponsible.” Daryah’s head whips around, glaring at the Commander.

 

“For being related to Elliott. Have I done something, to make you so distrusting of me, Commander? Or are you always so eloquent?” Josephine manages to hide her smirk behind her hand, and Lelianna sighs.

 

“Obviously, we must turn this into a lesson as well, if we are to progress anywhere.” Daryah looks at her, her brow furrowing in confusion. “As you are intent of expressing your dislike for each other, and that will do nothing, but damage the reputation for our budding order, you must help the Commander with whatever he needs. You will put away the recruit’s sheilds and swords, get the Commander food and drink, fetch his paperwork, and make sure he sleeps at a decent hour.” Lelianna turns to Cullen. “You will make sure she has work to do, and when she does not, she must remain at her side unless she is training with her weapons. Do you understand me, Commander?”

 

“I beg your pardon, but are you  _ giving _ me to the Commander?” Daryah demand, causing Lelianna to smirk.

 

“Yes.”

 

“If I wanted to be  **_given_ ** to someone, I would have stayed in Wycome!” She shouts, storming out while slamming the door, causing a few cloistered sisters to jump, frantic eyes landing on her as she stalks out of the building, and into the snowblown town, taking a deep, yet icy, breath as she closes her eyes, feeling something nagging at the back of her mind. Like She’s forgotten something.

 

“Milady!” Someone calls, causing her to turn as a flustered Josephine comes scurrying out of the Chantry, frantically scurrying towards her. “I- Daryah, milady-” She stops at her side, taking a deep breath. “you’ve forgotten about your sleeping arrangements.”

 

“I can’t stay in the tavern, but I could continue to bunk with Elliott.” She replies.

 

“Nonsense! That is entirely inappropriate!” She sounds aghast as she shakes her head. “No, we’ve prepped a tent for you, right beside the Commander’s. As he doesn’t know, I am offering to show you to it.” Daryah lets out a sigh, before smiling to herself.  _ She’s only trying to help and be friendly. _ She reminds herself as she nods.

 

“Alright. Thank you, Lady Montilyet… at least you and I are sure to get along well.” Josephine blushes, before smiling brightly at her.

 

“Indeed,” Josephine giggles. “I hope we become friends.” She gestures towards the gates, where Daryah follows after her diligently. “You may call me Josephine, Milady.”

 

“Oh, uh… Alright, Josephine. Please, call me Daryah.” She glances at her in surprise, before smiling at her.

 

“Ah, alright… Daryah.” Her words and hesitance causes Daryah to laugh, smiling at her. “Forgive me if I come across as rude, or crass. You say you were washed up on the shore with no memory of anything?” She asks as they step down the stairs past the tavern, causing her to pause in her step, surprised at her question. Daryah focuses on her feet as she thinks back, remembering the few memories she managed snatch back from whatever drew them away. Mainly of that night.

 

_ Lightning flashes, rain pours as waves crash against the boat. Dashing up the stairs of the boat, she catches herself against the railing of the boat, turning to looking behind her, with hands clutching the rail behind her. Someone’s shout is drowned out by a clap of thunder as an ominous figure stomps towards her, towering over her small figure, a menacing and heavy atmosphere rolls off this figure, choking and stifling her breath. Turning on her feet, she dashes forward, slipping between the figure’s legs as they turn, swiping at her as she ducks their grip, and continue running towards the front of the boat, where the railing is lower. Turning back as the figure storms down the deck, she throws herself to the side at the last possible moment, causing the figure to stumble, snatching her elbow just as they fall into the raging sea below, a cry leaves her lips as they drag her with. A woman’s shouting is drowned out by the thunder and the break of the water as she drops below, everything going dark. _

 

“Are you alright?” The question snaps Daryah from her memory, jerking her head up as Josephine turns to look at her, worry coloring her face.

 

“No no, I mean- yes.” Shaking her head, she looks up at Josephine. “I was remembering. I only remember what just happened, before I washed up. How I ended up in the water, but I don’t remember my name, my mother’s name, anything like that. I don’t remember family member, or their faces. But, that could be because I was only 10 when it happened.”

 

“Oh Maker!” Josephine gasps, causing Daryah to hop down the steps quickly, following her as she continues to lead her through the doors to the training grounds, where the tents are pitched. “I’m so sorry, Daryah.”

 

“It’s… It’s alright.” She answers as she pulls back the flap of a tent, gesturing the young woman into it.

 

“This is your tent. Any of your belongings can be put in here, without fear of thievery.” Josephine says as she enters the tent. There’s a cot shoved in one corner with a thick bedroll on top of it, a trunk sitting at the foot on the leather floor, with a lantern hanging in one corner over a desk, and a simple armor rack is beside the entrance, waiting with practice armor already ready to go. “I shall come get you, before the dinner bell. The Commander should be done being reprimanded by Lady Cassandra and Sister Lelianna by now. He’s in a foul mood, so just… listen to what he says, and try your best.”

 

“I-Alright.” She sighs, instead of arguing. Josephine nods, before hurrying off back towards the Chantry as the Commander stalks over from the gate, a man with face tattoos and dark hair follows him. The blonde commander comes to a stop a few feet from her, the man beside him is holding stacks of paperwork, which he hands to her at the Commander’s insistance.

 

“Rylen will show you how to fill these out, when they are, you will find me so I may sign them.” The Commander stalks off with a sneer, barking orders to recruits as she cocks her hip with a hand on it, setting her jaw while she narrows her eyes.

 

“What an ass.” She scoffs, turning to the man, Rylen by my guess. His blue eyes are alight with laughter as he grins at her, his scar on the right side of his face is more pronounced as he crosses his arms over his chest as she stacks the paperwork together.

 

“Well, lass, he’s just got a headache. It puts ‘im in a foul mood, so ye’ll have to fergive ‘im.” She raises an eyebrow at him.

 

“Josephine said the same thing. Having a headache doesn’t usually put one in a foul mood, and even if it does, that gives said person no right to treat others as though they’re demons, or dirt to be tread upon.” She points out with a huff. “If my Mama were here, she’d give him a right strong thump on the nose, and I would say he deserves it. Might give him one myself if he doesn’t stop his treatment, soon.” The man starts cackling at that, gripping his stomach and doubling over in laughter, his eyes sparkling in delight and mirth.

 

“Oh boy! Lass, ye don’t stand a chance here fer long with that attitude! Cullen’ll have yer hide fer even thinkin’ such a thing!” He chuckles as he slowly stands, catching his breath as she hums at him, tapping her foot with one hand on her hip. “Now ye stop tha’. Ye look like me ma.” He growls, and she lets out a sigh.

 

“I’m Daryah.” She introduces herself, causing him to nod.

 

“Ah, ‘m Rylen, nice to meet ye Dar.” He says, causing her to wrinkle her nose at the nickname.

 

“Alright, I’ve already had a long day, so let’s get this started on this paperwork.” Pinning the tent open, she plops down at the desk, Rylen pauses outside before he steps into the tent, and the two of them set to work.


	6. Chapter 6

 

Shortly after that first day, Daryah’s days are filled with listening to the Commander, his orders, his insults, his frustratingly annoying words, filling out his paperwork, and chasing him around for his signature. Each night she ends up taking a brisk bath in the bathhouse before going to bed, practically passing out before her head hits the pillow, and even then it’s only  _ after _ she manages to get the Commander to sleep. She’s so tired on a nightly basis, the Commander barely cooperates with the rules set for her work, and they have yet to even get to the combat training that the Commander is supposed to give her. Everyday is tense, multiple arguments and fights break out between them, much to the amusement of the soldiers and Rylen as they watch them. Things soon start to boil over.

 

Stumbling out of her tent, she sheathes her duel swords on her back as the Commander storms over to her, the permanent scowl on his face sees deeper today as he crosses his arms over his chest, glaring down at her. “You’re late.” He barks at her.

 

“Why in the Maker’s name do you think that is?” She snarls as she fixes her cloak to block out the cold, pulling her hood over her face.

 

“Because you’re lazy.” She grits her teeth as he points to Rylen. “Rylen will show you how to fight properly.”

 

“I can fight just fine, thanks.” She bites at him, causing his golden eyes to flare with angry flames, before he shrugs off his mantle, pulling his sword from his hip.

 

“Then prove it.” He demands, swinging at her, causing her to duck backwards as the blade cuts across the air, the sound of it ripping through the air echos in her ears. Her hood falls as she swings back up to her feet, looking at him with wide eyes as he swings again, causing her to jump back, the sword nearly catches her.

 

“Are you crazy?!” She shouts as she dodges his sword again by dropping to the ground, rolling away as the Commander stabs the ground where she was. “Stop!” She somersaults to her feet, backing away as he stalks towards her. “What is your problem?!” She demands as Rylen steps between the Commander and herself.

 

“Ser, think tha’s ‘nough.” He says, taking the Commander by surprise as he drops his sword to the ground, eyes widening as he places his hand to his face.

 

“Maker’s Breath. What was I doing?!” The Commander asks himself as he turns away, stalking into his tent as Rylen turns to her, noticing her quivering frame as she stares at the ground where the sword lays, eyes frantic as she looks away, drawing her hood over her face as she stalks off towards the Chantry. Rylen stares guiltily after the terrified young woman as she passes through the gate, Varric looks at her as she passes by, before he starts to follow as she throws open the doors to the Chantry, startling the cloistered sisters, which she ignores as she storms into Josephine’s office, where Cassandra and Leliana are currently talking to the diplomat.

 

“He tried to kill me!” She shouts as Varric slips in behind her, the three women look up at her as Varric sits on a bench to the side.

 

“Who?” Cassandra asks as Daryah throws her hood back.

 

“You’re so called Commander! He started to swing at me with his sword!” She shouts, Varric notices her shaking hands as she twists the edge of her cloak between them. “So, either you find me a new position, or-or he’ll murder me!” She looks over her shoulder, as though she’s afraid that the Commander is standing behind her.

 

“Nonsense.” Leliana says, crossing her arms over her chest, causing Daryah’s head to snap over to look in her direction. “This is a lesson. If he brandishes his sword at you again, fight back. We all know that you’re not without skill.”

 

“He exists to make my life hell!” Daryah exclaims as she leaves the room, Varric watches her as Cassandra steps up to him.

 

“You must watch her, Varric. She is the key to the Herald’s cooperation.” Cassandra says, looking down at the dwarf as he huffs.

 

“Listen Seeker, Snowflake’s a nice girl, and if anyone has a chance of screwing things up here, it’s Curly. You haven’t seen them get into it yet, but it gets bad, pretty damn fast.” Varric says as he stands from the bench, leaving the three women exchanging looks as he leaves the room. Varric finds himself looking for Daryah as he walks through the town, to his surprise, he finds her talking to Solas the two of them look like they’re in a deep conversation of some type, before Daryah raises her hand between them, shaking her head as she walks away. “Problem, Snowflake?” He asks as she walks past, her hood is up, but he can tell it’s her from the white locks peeking out of it.

 

“I hate when other people make sense.” She answers as she walks through the gate, pushing her hood down as she crosses over to the Commander, standing behind him with her fingers locked behind her back. “Reporting for duty, ser.” She says without any spite or even enthusiasm behind it. The Commander turns to her, an apologetic expression on his face as he goes to open his mouth, when she holds up a hand. “Reporting for duty,  _ ser _ .” She insists, causing him to pause with a sigh, before he nods as he gestures to Rylen.

 

“Rylen, start the training.” He orders, causing the man to walk over, leading Daryah off to the side as he tosses her a training sword, pulling one out for himself as he hands her a shield, and she takes a fighting stance. The two of them spar for twenty minutes before the Commander comes striding over, annoyance on his face as he rips to shield from her arm. “This is a shield. You block with it!” He jerks her arm out, strapping the shield to her arm, and positioning her body how he wants. “How can you expect to fight, when you don’t even know the proper stance?”

 

“Well  _ excuse _ me!” She snorts. “I’m not a warrior, I’m a rogue!” The Commander rips the sword from her hand, throwing it to the ground.

 

“Then go to archery!” He booms as she glares at him with narrowed eyes, looking up at him as she unstraps the shield from her arm, smirking as it falls on his foot, causing his eyes to widen in pain, and she turns to strut off with a friendly wave to Rylen. She grabs a training bow and quiver of arrows from the rack in the storage shed, before walking over to the training dummies, standing 30 yards back with her bow in hand, she knocks an arrow into place as she draws the string into place, launching the bow as it flies, and hits nearly dead center. Another arrow and another, until the luncheon bell rings, making everyone drop their weapons, going to the Chantry to eat as she lets out a sigh. Dropping the bow from her stance, she rubs her neck as she sets the bow to the side, she walks towards the Chantry to join the others for luncheon, when the Commander glares at her by the gate.

 

“What? What could possibly be wrong, now?!” She cries as she throws her hood back, glaring up at him from her short stature.

 

“Put. The. Weapons. Away.” He demands. “ **Now** .” She gapes as she looks at the yard littered with weapons, before looking back at him.

 

“You’re kidding me. That’ll take longer than luncheon will last!” She complains as he points to the yard with gritted teeth, causing her to sigh as she turns on her heel, walking out to the yard to start picking up the swords, carrying them to the storage shed. After about 20 trips to and from the storage shed, her stomach aches from the growling causing her to ignore the remaining weapons, and move towards the Chantry with a hunger gnawing at her insides. Entering the Chantry, she frowns at the sight of the tables full, plates stacked high with food, leaving nothing on the platters, causing her to sigh as she turns on her heel, leaving the Chantry once more to go back to cleaning up the weapons in the training yard. A bitter taste is in her mouth as she finishes, dropping to the snow-lain ground with a gasp as the bell to end luncheon ends, and the training soldiers come back out, getting their weapons from the shed, undoing all the work that she just finished doing.

 

“Are you joking?” The Commander demands as he walks over to her, causing her to look up at him in exhaustion. “Were you just sitting here?”

 

“I  _ just _ finished. I deserve a break.”

 

“That remains to be seen.” He retorts, causing her to glare as she stands up, pointing a finger in his face.

 

“You’re a slave driver! I have to chase you down all day, for some Maker knows paperwork, I have to beg you to train me, and when I do, you yell and try to kill me, and then you make me clean up all the damn weapons. I’ve missed breakfast, because I’m up almost all night,  _ begging _ you to go to sleep, so I can!” She takes a breath, tears burning behind her eyes as she blinks the back. “Then you get mad when I wake up late! You make me clean up the weapons, when the soldiers are just going to pull them back out 20 minutes later, making me miss luncheon, so now I’m starving! You’re nothing better than a demon!” She shouts, causing the Commander to narrow his eyes as he steps forward, getting into her space as his leans down to get in her face.

 

“You know  _ nothing _ of demons!” He snarls, stalking off as she moves away from where she stands, going into her tent as she sits on her cot, her exhaustion and hunger eating at her as she draws her knees to her chest, resting her chin on them. Something eats at her that she said something wrong in that argument, making her feel bad, but she also knows that it’s not just on her to identify the wrong. That he’s also in the wrong, and she’s not going to handle the abuse he throws at her. She’s going to fight back.


	7. Chapter 7

 

It seems like a millennium until Elliott wakes up, in reality it’s three days, but in those three days, the Commander and Daryah have gotten into so many spats, arguments, and fights that everyone thinks of it as daily entertainment. Elliott manages to find Daryah after visiting the Chantry, on the training field with her face right in the Commander’s with a scowl on both of their faces, causing the young man to smirk as he taps her on the shoulder. “Are you causing trouble, Daryah?” He asks, causing her to whirl around on her heels, her hair smacking the Commander in the face.

 

“Elliott!” She cries as she throws her arms around him as he chuckles, petting her hair as he hugs her. “I’m so sorry! I never should’ve let you go to the temple alone, and then you woke up in the dungeon, and then we had to go through that fight at the Breach, and then-”

 

“Shh.” Elliott soothes as Daryah starts to sniffle, gripping his shirt in her fists as he shakes his head. “You’re always so emotional.” He teases as she shoves him, causing him to stumble back a bit as he laughs, the Commander watches the siblings as she unleashes a glare on Elliott, not at all like the glare directed at him. Elliott swoops in to scoop Daryah into his arms, throwing her over his shoulder as she lets out a a frantic scream, grabbing the younger man’s clothes at his shoulder as she lets out a clap of laughter, a wide smile on her face that takes the Commander by surprise, almost like he didn’t even know she could laugh and smile.

 

“Excuse me!” The Commander demands as Elliott spins around with Daryah in his arms, causing the Commander to frown. “ **_Excuse me_ ** !” He booms, causing the siblings to stop, Daryah is looking at him from the perch over Elliott’s shoulder, while Elliott looks at the Commander in confusion. “We were in the middle of a dispute!” The Commander reminds her as she huffs a white lock from her purple eyes.

 

“Your point is?” She asks, causing his jaw to drop as she lets out a giggle, squirming as Elliott reaches up to tickle her, and her elbow comes back into his head, causing him to groan as he swats her on her rear end, and the Commander’s face turns bright red as he coughs into his fist, looking away. “Ow! Elliott!” She elbows him again. “Put me down!” Elliott chorkles as he tosses her to the side, right into a snowbank, causing her to squeal as it slides down her tunic, jumping to and fro as she turns in circles, causing the Commander to bite his lip, attempting to bite back a laugh as he coughs into his fist once more. “Phew.” She turns to her brother, glaring playfully at him. “I’m glad your awake, you pusbucket.” She tugs at her tunic as Elliott smirks, dropping an elbow on her head as he looks at the Commander.

 

“So am I. So, Commander, I trust that you’re taking good care of my beloved little sister?” He inquires as he looks between Daryah and the Commander, raising his eyebrows in surprise at the glower that she’s shooting the Commander, not at all friendly like she usually is. “ _ Daryah _ what’s going on here?” She looks up at him as she bats his elbow off her head, stooping down to pick up some damp paperwork, which she then shoves into the Commander’s arms.

 

“He doesn’t want to do his  _ damn _ job.” She retorts, stalking off to duck into her tent as Elliott watches her, before he looks over at the Commander.

 

“Cullen, was it?” The Commander nods. “Yeah, look, don’t take her the wrong way. She’s always been sensitive.” Elliott explains as the Commander snorts.

 

“Sensitive is an understatement.” He replies, loud enough that Daryah is able to hear from her tent, even though he doesn’t seem to realize it. “Your sister is nothing but a spoiled little girl who pouts and throws tantrums whenever she bats her littles eyes and doesn’t get her way.”

 

“Whoa, what?” Elliott asks as Daryah looks down, the tent flap is the only barrier between the three of them. “You’re wrong,” She feels even worse when Elliott has to defend her, it reminds her of the times when he’d have to protect her from the angry boys from the village. “Daryah doesn’t work like that. She’s really a hard worker, ya know? She probably thinks that whatever she does, it’s not worth anything, but that’s just Daryah. She’d watch the children during the Chant. She’d rather clean the floors and tables of the local tavern, than go to the courtship festivals. The one to wake up early in the mornings to bring in the fishing lines, before everyone else in the village, was Daryah. Harvest time, Daryah was the first one out in the fields, and the very last ones in at night- she’d rather sleep in the barn, than take up a bed if someone needed it.” Elliott sighs as he shakes his head. “Daryah hates the attention she gets, but she has always been an oddity in our town, so the fact tha you think that she bats her eyes, and gets her way, means that you’ve a  _ very _ wrong impression of her.” Daryah sighs as she cards her fingers through her hair, dropping to the floor as she sets her elbows on her knees.

 

“What you say, and what your sister has shown me, are two different things.” The Commander says as Elliott clenches his fist at his side. “She’s an obnoxious brat who never does as she’s told, when she’s told.” Daryah climbs to her feet as she lets out a sigh.

 

“You take that back!” Elliott shouts, causing Daryah to throw back the flap.

 

“Elliott!” She shouts, causing the Commander and Elliott to look at her as Elliott has a finger pointed in the Commander’s face. “That’s enough. This isn’t the village, I can defend myself.” The two men have the decency to at least look sheepish, as though they didn’t realize they got caught talking about her behind her back.

 

“Dar-” Elliott cuts himself off as he looks at her face.

 

“I’m  _ not _ codependent, Commander.” She looks at him. “Elliott is just a protective older brother. But, I carry my weight.” She crosses her arms over her chest as a sign of defense. “So, you do what you do, and I’ll do what I do. When our paths have to cross, lets try to work amicably.” She turns on her heel, stalking back into the tent to change into the new armor that Cassandra requisitioned from Harritt. She tugs the leathers over her leather trousers and her tunic, she tightens the fasteners of her armor, tugging the clasps closed, before looking over herself in her new armor. Tugging her belt into place, she grabs her training bow and quiver of arrows, throwing back to the flap to exit, finding Cassandra and Elliott conversing beside Cassandra’s proclaimed dummies, while the Commander shouts at his recruits, and she stalks over to the targets, preparing for a long day of training.

 

The next week in Haven is amped, the awakening of her brother, the “Herald of Andraste” as everyone has taken to calling him, has everyone on edge and excited at once, bringing rowdy individuals out of the wood work. Seggrit on more than one occasion calls out to Daryah, calls her lass each time, talking to her in a chiding voice like she’s an infant, it makes her want to punch him. She’s welcomed back to the Tavern, with open arms, though she’s not allowed to room there for her safety against drunken patrons whole are still against her brother. The Commander has been running her ragged with paperwork, training, chasing him down, and trying to get the Commander to go to sleep, she’s reminded of the first days that she was here, but she knows from Elliott’s disappearances with Cassandra, Solas, and Varric, along the Commander’s nightmares, that he’s doing it now, more for distracting himself, than being mean to her.

 

On one particular day she’s exhausted from her own nightmares, a painful headache digging into her skull, pressing against her forehead as though trying to break through a wall. Leaving the tavern after her breakfast, she rubs her palm roughly against her forehead, right above her eyes as she lets out a soft yawn, pushing out the gate to cross to the Commander’s side. “Reporting for,” She lets out a tired yawn, rubbing her head again. “duty, Commander.” She murmur as he turns to her as she lifts her head, he notices the way that her shoulders are slumped, as though the weight of the world it on them, the bags under her eyes are so prominent that she looks like she’s been punched in both eyes, and she’s rubbing her head like he does when he has a headache.

 

“Are you feeling alright?” He asks, causing her to look up at him with her eyes wide, surprise evident as he rubs his neck. “I notice that you’re not looking all that great today. Perhaps I’ve been running you too much? Feel free to take today to rest.”

 

“No!” She cries out, grabbing his arm as he goes to turn away. “No, please. Don’t make me go to bed.” She pleads, causing him to look down at her as she looks up at him with exhausted and fearful eyes. “Please, Commander, I can work!”

 

“A-Alright,” He answers, clearing his throat as she lets go over him, a relieved sigh slipping through her lips as he looks around. “I need you to run this requisition paperwork to Quartermaster Threnn,” He grabs pages of paperwork from his outdoor desk, which differs from his indoor one at the tent, handing them to her. “then speak to Apothecary Adan about some,” He clears his throat with a blush staining his cheeks. “contraceptive potions for the men, as well as some vials of sleeping potion for me. Finally, talk to Josephine about our noble allies providing more military support out on the fields. The Herald cannot maintain everywhere on his own.” She quietly nods, without complaint as she salutes, turning on her heel to start back through the gates, arms loaded with paperwork as the Commander watches from the middle of the training field. The look in her eyes when she pleaded with him, the exhaustion emitting from her in waves, he could practically feel it cresting it over in him, it reminds him too much of him, which despite his unexplainable annoyance towards the young woman, he had to speak up against her working.

 

“Quartermaster Threnn,” Daryah calls as she brushes her white bangs from her violet eyes. The Quartermaster turns to look at her as she holds out the paperwork, causing her to look down at it. “the Commander sent me to turn these in, requisitions for the soldiers, I believe.” The Quartermaster takes them with a glance at her, before a pitying smile spreads across her lips as she nods. Daryah lets out a soft yawn as she turns to walk into the Chantry, deciding to go to Josephine since she’s close to it already. The door to the office is open as she walks in, Josephine is talking with one of the few visiting dignitaries, who scoffs as soon as she enters the room, turning on their heel, and walking out as Josephine sighs, scribbling in a book. “Long day, Josephine?” She inquires as the Diplomat looks up, surprise coloring her face.

 

“Obviously not as long as your has been, Daryah. Have you even slept these last few days?” Josephine inquires as she gestures to the seat across her desk, Daryah stays standing, too afraid to sit that she might fall asleep.

 

“It’s been… complicated.” She runs her fingers through her hair, rubbing her temples as she looks at the Antivan. “I’m here on the Commander’s behalf. He’s asked that I inquire about military support for the field, from our noble allies. Elliott cannot handle holding down everywhere himself, and with how small the Inquisition’s forces are currently-”

 

“You do not have to convince me, Daryah.” Josephine interrupts in a friendly manner, a shy smile on her face as she scribbles in her book. “I will petition some our visiting dignitaries for some volunteers to join the training, so more of the Commander’s soldiers can be moved to the fields. Rotate old out for new.” Josephine provides, causing Daryah to sigh, but nod, knowing that’s the best they’re gonna get until they gain more influence.

 

“Thank you, Josephine.” She nods gratefully, when Josephine reaches out, placing a hand on the desk towards Daryah, as though the desk were an extension of Daryah.

 

“Daryah, no matter what everyone else says, you’re allowed to sleep. Feel free to leave everything, and get some rest. If someone has trouble with that, then tell them to speak with me.” Josephine offers softly, but Daryah sighs as she shakes her head, dropping into the chair finally as she rings her hands together.

 

“The thing is… today marks the 17th year since I washed up on the shore of the village. Normally, Elliott is here to help keep my mind off it, and help me through the burden of emotions that plague me during this time. But, he’s not.” She sighs as she rubs her forehead again. “So, I’ve been having nightmares, and headaches since early this morning. It’ll last about a week or so.” She explains as she stands, stretching to try and get her limbs to stop buzzing.

 

“I see.” Josephine dips her quill in ink, scribbling in her book again. “If you need to speak to anyone, know that I am here for you.” She smiles up at Daryah with clear understanding in her eyes.

 

“Thank you, Josephine.” She leaves the office, yawning as she moves through the old brick building, before stepping out into the snowy town, the snow flying through the air is slowly, almost sluggish. Her gaze lifts up to the sky, the swirling green of the Breach nails into her head, causing her to gasp as she crouches to the ground, covering her eyes in agony.

 

_ Rain. Waves. Water sucking her deep into the dark water. Something green flashes around her, searing heat envelopes her freezing body. It feels like it’s ripping her apart. _

 

“Daryah?!” She jerks up, the momentum of her movement causes her to fall to the ground, scrambling back as the Commander kneels before her. Her head is pounding in agony, tears streaming down her face as she gasps for breath. “Maker’s breath, what ever is the matter?”

 

“It hurts!” She cries she as grinds her palms against her eyes, the Commander reaches out to rest a hand on her shoulder.

 

“Deep breathes.” He chides as she nods, struggling to take a deep breath in through her nose, then lets out a shake breath through her mouth, halfway through it comes out as a sob, and she jerks between the pain in her head, and the memory slamming against her, over and over.  _ Rain, waves, green, heat, pain. _ Over and over, nothing else, it makes it difficult to control her frantic breathes, and sobs. Suddenly she’s in the Commander’s arms, he’s moving through the town, trying to make her less obvious to the villagers as he moves towards the Apothecary. The door slams open as he deposits her on one of the cots, and Adan looks up.

 

“What is the meaning of this?” Adan demands.

 

“This is the Herald’s sister. She need something for sleep and head pain.” The Commander points to her, looking over at Adan. “She’s a priority. Do you understand?” Adan looks at the writhing girl on the cot, she is hyperventilating and sobbing as she grabs her head, and Adan steps over to his alchemy table, pulling potions off the table, before walking over to kneel beside the girl, tilting her head back to pour the various bottles down her throat. She thrashes for a bit longer, before settling into a fitful sleep, and Adan to look at the Commander.

 

“I’ve done all I can. I suggest you take her back to her tent, and allow the girl to rest. She needs to sleep, she’s run herself ragged.” Adan explains as the Commander sighs, lifting her into his arms. “About your sleeping potions. I’ve made six dozen, but I suggest splitting them between the two of you. She may need them, just as much as you. As for your men’s contraceptive potions, I’ve requisitioned the herbs required to make some. I suggest that the men go without their… activities, unless the wish to be parents.” He says as the Commander flushes, but nods as he walks out. Carrying her out to the tents, he shifts in place for a moment as he glances at her tent, before he lets out a sigh, ducking into his own tent to place her on his cot. He would not enter a woman’s tent without her permission, even one as vexing as Daryah. It wasn’t appropriate. Tucking her into the cot, he ducks out of the tent, one last glance to the fitfully resting girl, before he sighs as he leaves. He has work to do.


End file.
